


Too Much Room for Trouble

by cmdf



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, M/M, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 18:11:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmdf/pseuds/cmdf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Okay, funnyman,” he leans into Louis’ ear, “don't forget this was your idea.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Or, Liam gives Louis a blow job in the back of a cab.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Much Room for Trouble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [degrassi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/degrassi/gifts).



> -This is pure filth. That's it. You've been warned.-
> 
> As for the real notes: this one is for my darling muse, [Liri](http://archiveofourown.org/users/degrassi). 
> 
> It was her birthday this week, and I cannot thank her enough for all she's done for me and encouraging me through my torturously slow writing process. I kept this one a not-so-little secret from her as a belated birthday surprise.
> 
> Another awfully large thank you to [Bridget](http://archiveofourown.org/users/khakis/pseuds/khakis) for looking over this many a-times and being an enormous help. I know it's a short piece, but I honestly couldn't have finished this without her.

Nobody warns visitors about the summer night fog that rolls into San Francisco Bay, waltzing through the icy Pacific air, biting at your skin, searing through the bone. It’s made the night much colder outside the venue than either of them initially planned, but Liam gives his legs a quick kick with a hop to start walking East on the sidewalk.

“Come on, babe,” Liam tugs at Louis’ hand, but Louis’ anchored to the sidewalk. “It’ll be a nice walk back tonight.”

Louis’ got one hand in the air waving for a cab and the other pulling on Liam, who’s insistent on dragging him down the street.

“Absolutely not,” Louis lets go of Liam’s hand as the yellow cab pulls up to the curb. “Firstly, not on these hills. Secondly, I didn’t bring a single fucking jumper. I’m freezing my tits off out here. I thought we were in _California_.”

There are a gaggle of teenagers kicked back against the wall of the theater passing a 40 and joint between them in homemade crop tops and army surplus jackets. Louis thinks he overhears them laughing _the stupid tourists_ who _think we’re fuckin’ L.A. or something_. He shrugs it off, reminds himself that he should have known better than to think it’d be nothing but warm.

Louis waves to the driver through the passenger door, then clasps his hands in praise, relieved they managed to flag down a cab in this city. Apparently they’re few and far between, considering that parking is a near impossible and overpriced situation on this city of hills. Cars are neatly sandwiched between each other against the curbs, or tucked away in compartments large enough to be considered a garage.

He clicks open the back door and beckons a pouting Liam to climb in next to him.

“Get in, you dick!”

Liam uncrosses his arms, shakes his head and slides in to slam the door closed. It’s warm inside, the ghostly heat of previous passengers lining the tan leather, and it smells faintly of too many Jaegerbombs with cheap beer, despite the jasmine-scented tree freshener (tangled with a plastic crucifix) that’s dangling from the rearview mirror. Louis lifts up his foot to turn his heel, feeling the sole of his shoe resist for a moment before parting from mysterious sticky substance on the floor. He wrinkles his nose in disgust, tapping his toe around the mat to find a clean spot.

The driver turns to open the partition window, “where’re you going?”

“24th and Folsom,” Louis replies.

The driver nods, slides the window closed and takes hold of the wheel to merge back into the steady flow of traffic.

“You’re going to regret taking a cab,” Liam pipes up.

“Ooh, is that a threat?" Louis stops rubbing his hands together with mock offense. "Your legs will thank me later. Besides, it's nice and cozy in here.”

“You think being in the back of this car that smells like fermented baby vom is _nice and cozy_?”

“Quit being so over dramatic-- it’s not _that_ awful.”

“I just,” Liam slides over, half-way into the seat between them, and presses a kiss on his temple, “wanted to see more of the city at night.”

“Well, would you look at that,” Louis thumbs over his shoulder, “this car has windows! Can you believe the cars in San Francisco have _see-through windows_?” 

“Oh, shut up,” Liam frowns and looks away from the conversation and out the window.

They’re passing by a couple bent over a sidewalk, one keeled over and holding onto a pole of a stop sign while puking onto the other’s shoes. Liam winces when he turns back to look at Louis whose stifling a laugh.

“Okay, funnyman,” he leans into Louis’ ear, “don't forget this was your idea.”

Louis sees a flicker in Liam's eyes, a lightbulb over his head, a cheeky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Liam brushes his lips down to the side of Louis’ neck, nose nuzzling against the soft hairs on the back of his head. He opens his mouth a little wider, sliding the tip of his tongue up behind the shell of Louis’ ear before taking the lobe between his teeth with a gentle tug. Louis tries to push away with a small, discouraging laugh. He knows what Liam’s trying to do.

“Liam,” Louis sighs, “we’re-- we’re in a car.”

Liam takes a few sweet grazes with his teeth back down his neck and bares down on his collarbone, hears Louis punch out another quiet sigh against shoulder. 

“Liam,” he sounds more stern, frustrated even, “people can _see_ us in here.”

“Well,” Liam mumbles into a new bite, “this car _does_ have windows.”

Louis slouches further into his seat, arm slewn across his stomach and the other propping his head up from the window. Liam takes his finger and thumb to turn Louis’ face to his, swiping his tongue over Louis’ tightened lips. Louis feels the car ease on the brakes beneath him, tires rolling to a complete stop, and tries to open his eyes to see where they’ve stopped. They’re in the middle of an intersection at the bottom a hill, and that’s all he can gather with Liam’s lip between his teeth. Liam’s fingers are now dancing up his thigh, leaving a trail of fire as a hot blush burns over his face.

“Why are you--” Louis can’t bring himself to put a stop to this, shaking his head to Liam’s tuts, feeling his slender fingers slide higher between his legs. Louis sits up further, somehow forgetting he’s seated in the back of a car with nowhere to go, and his seat belt’s cutting into his shoulder, but his knees spread wider. Liam gets the heel of his palm over his half-hard cock, and Louis can’t help rolling his eyes and biting down on his lip to suppress a whimper. When he feels his stomach plunge, like the first fall on a rollercoaster, his knee bangs up into the door, and he throws open his eyes, startled, and looks into the rearview mirror.

“Of course he heard you,” Liam whispers.

The driver isn’t looking into the rearview mirror when Louis looks up, but he puts a hand over his face regardless. Liam’s pressing a little harder with each movement, resting his temple by Louis’ ear and breathing on the back of neck. The euphoria’s building cold and hot, goosebumps prickling his neck, the tight cotton fiction almost burning at the base of his cock.

“Jesus, it feels like you’re punching me in the dick,” he yelps, biting at the back of his hand.

“This’ll help,” Liam takes his thumb to pop open the button of his jeans. Liam grabs a fist full of his shirt, dragging it up across the smooth hairs of his navel. Louis shakes his head _no_ , stealing glances between Liam’s menacing grin and the rearview mirror. The driver appears to be deep in concentration to make a left turn, soft ticks of the signal beating as rapidly as his escalating pulse, and he lets out an involuntary cry of relief, bathed in waves of ice and fire. When he looks back down, Liam’s settled on pulling down the elastic band of his briefs. His cock springs up, bouncing off a couple times on the skin below his navel before resting against the trail of hair there. “Feel better?”

It feels better in the sense that he no longer has a hard-on straining against his denim jeans, but now Liam’s got his cock out, and he’s melting lower into the seat, the heels of his palms pressing into his temples over how indecent all of this is, how all it’d take for his life to be over would be for a biker to stop by their window and look in, and Liam’s got his hand over his mouth, long fingers curling beneath his jaw, thumb trailing down the slope of his nose. Louis panics at the thought of their driver turning to open up the partition to ask if _they’re alright back there._

Louis shakes his head, feigned protests muted into the palm of Liam’s hand, and part of him wants the traffic to stop building up to get Liam on his knees, against a door, over the couch--get him anywhere but here.

“Lick,” Liam demands, other hand pulling taught at Louis’ tee in his fisted hand. “Go easy on yourself, baby.”

Louis parts his lips, bottom lip dragging wet across the calloused palm. He traces over the lines, swirling, sucking, tongue laying flat and hot. He’s watching Liam now, whose eyes are hooded and ever-changing in the backseat of this unlit car, catching a glimpse of them under each stream of a streetlamp pouring in through the window just long enough for Louis to see them growing darker.

Liam pulls his hand off, holds out his palm as an offering, fingertips resting gently beneath Louis’ chin. Louis can’t break his eyes-- as much as his heartbeat is telling him _somebody_ else has to be seeing this. He is giving Liam attention (it’s all he’s asking for)-- or as much as he can allow himself, and it’s too much at once, having his cock swelling against his hip (in the back of a car with a stranger at the wheel) and a complete lunatic staring into his eyes. He can’t hone in on which feeling outweighs the other. Louis thinks he might as well settle on it all boiling down to chasing a thrill.

He watches Liam swallow, his cheekbones cutting through the passing streetlights once again. Liam taps Louis’ chin once more then puts his palm closer to his own mouth. He licks up his fingers, back down over his dampened palm. Louis can’t remember when his own breaths became so shallow, but they flatline, head going woozy (out of shock or relief; perhaps both) when Liam spits into his palm and quickly takes Louis’ cock in his hand, twisting up lightly, not nearly enough pressure around it to feel worthwhile.

“What a pity,” Liam squeezes a small whimper out of Louis, “looks like we’re stuck in a lot of traffic, aren’t we?”

The cab is stopped and there are cars all around them. Louis shields the side of his face with a hand from the window, looking down at Liam’s torturously slow-stroking hand, and tries to sit as still as possible.

“Just--”

“‘Just’ what?” Liam slides his thumb over the head of the cock. He keeps his strokes at a steady pace, palm dragging down the pre-come leaking from the tip. There’s the silence again. “Louis, I n-- please? Can I taste you?”

Louis doesn’t flinch, doesn’t answer, just shields his face from Liam now.

“Ah, that’s a yes-- or is it a please?” Liam asks.

Louis is still holding his breath, feeling lighter by the second, fuzzy, dreamlike. _This has to be a dream._

Liam adds more pressure on the upstroke, leaning down on his elbow into the seat with his other arm and licks the tip of his cock. Louis gasps, closes his eyes, fingernails digging into the palms of his fists, thinking the harder he digs, the less noise he’ll make. He fails to hide a few moans, nothing too disruptive, as Liam makes steady pace for himself: sucking and twisting and pulling and licking. 

“Relax,” Liam mumbles before taking him in again.

Louis runs his fingers up the back of Liam’s neck, scratching into his scalp. The city is blurring by them, somehow gracing their car through a stream of green lights. He looks through the partition window, the glowing numbers of the fare ticking higher by the dime. His hand is curling into the crown of Liam’s hair, dropping lower, wrist snapping with each bob. Liam’s shifting on his side now, humming softly, 

“Talk to me,” he says, “you don’t sound like you’re enjoying this very much.”

He’s sliding his tongue down the underside of Louis’ cock, pushing the head with his fingers against the bare skin of his stomach. He stops at the base of his cock, kissing it softly with a flick of his tongue.

Louis groans, biting at his knuckles.

“You like this, Louis? What I do for you?”

He can’t talk to Liam, can’t open his mouth for anyone right now. They aren’t in their own private space, under a roof, in a bed-- they're in San Franciso, quite literally in the middle of the street, pedestrians striding through cross walks, SUVs merging with limos. Though encased in glass, it's a finite barrier only shielding the faintest of sounds. He refuses to submit an answer because he knows as soon as he does--

“Tell me how much you like this," Liam asks sweetly. "Use your words-- be polite. Be a-- a good boy for me.”

There’s a broken second in which Louis is convinced Liam is going to call it quits, and it sets him into a panic thinking about being left high and dry at this point would be far worse than being caught with his cock out. 

“I--” he manages, low and shaky.

Liam’s back on his cock, loud and messy, turning the side of his face just enough to keep and eye on Louis.

“Yes,” Louis whines, more like a question than an answer.

“Mhmm?” Liam asks, cock hitting the back of his throat, spit lining the corners of his mouth. From the corner of his eye, he can see they’re passing by a gas station, a bar, a church, and Louis can’t stop lauding him with a litany of _yeahyesfuck_ 's, watching him--feeling him-- swallow around his cock, and 

“Li--” he chokes, “You-- you can’t be comfortable.”

Liam sits back up, dramatically wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and lets out a long sigh. He pouts, brows framing his mock annoyance. Louis bites his own lip and closes his eyes when he feels Liam’s knuckles grazing down his balls. Liam turns his hand, rubbing them between his thumb and fingers on his palm, “are you?”

Louis sees Liam’s eyes dart over to the window with a shrug of his brows and a wink. He turns over to see a middle aged couple sitting in the back of another cab. Louis’ cheeks go hot when they give him a wave back and he feels Liam’s mouth back down on his cock.

“You fucking animal,” Louis groans, head tipping back on the headrest. He feels Liam’s laughter, buzzing around the head of his cock. "So good to me, Li. So so good." 

Liam pulls off with a pop, hand working tighter and faster with such finesse, "always for you."

"I'm--" Louis doesn't even recognize his own voice, doesn't care. He has his fingers splayed out taught and flat, rubbing the heel of his hand across the top of his jeans. Everything is sticking, too warm, even with the window against his forehead that's now lined with his staggered breaths. Liam's matching his moans, reeling him on,

"Gonna come?"

Louis can barely hear him over the blood in his ears, "yeah."

"Just for me?"

"Yeah."

He takes his hand around the back of Liam's head to guide him back down to his cock, hissing with every inch Liam takes down a few more times. He's so close-- and-- gets a grip of Liam's hair to pull him off. Liam gives despite his strength over Louis, but stops to hold his lips around the head of the cock, and Louis is coming onto the roof of his mouth and tongue. Louis holds a hand over his mouth to stifle his cry. He looks into the rearview mirror, flushed and brimming with sweat. 

"Fuck," he sighs.

He catches sight of the driver glancing back with a furrowed brow and immediately hangs his head in a panic to see Liam resting the side of his head on his thigh. 

Liam is smiling, mouth closed, the rise and fall of chest shaking fast, deep, and steadily on his shoulders. He begins to sit up, leaning back into the seats next to Louis. He puts a hand to the side of his face like he has a secret to keep from their driver, drops his mouth open, tongue peeking out with a string of come to his teeth. He teases, leaning closer for Louis to get a good look at his spunk, slicked across Liam’s teeth and turning over in his cheek. A drop slides onto the corner of Liam’s bottom lip, but he pays no mind as he swallows the rest down and puts his shielded hand back onto the seat. Louis takes the back of his finger to swipe up his come off the bottom of Liam’s lip, the smooth drag of it hot on his finger nail, and Liam’s tongue makes a reappearance to take the last of it back in his mouth.

“Mmm, taste so good, babe,” he says, leaning back fully into his seat and takes a look out his window with his hands locked behind his head.

Louis looks away catching his breath, tucking his softening cock back into his pants.

“Look,” Liam points out the window, “we’re almost back. I’d say taking a cab home was a good idea. How much tip you think we should give the Mister Taxi Driver?”

Louis bites at his lip to hold back a laugh. He’s just had his dignity sucked out of his dick in the back of the cab, and Liam, though his voice is now raw and raspy, is being casual as ever.

The driver comes to a complete stop on their corner, wheels turning onto 24th. Louis squints his eyes and blinks twice to see the fare is an astonishing $58.80.

“Pay the man and thank him,” Liam nods and leans forward to open the window. “Remember what I said about being polite.”

The driver has his hands gripped tightly around the wheel, glancing up nervously in the rearview. Liam tries to wink at Louis before opening the door and stepping onto the curb. He thumbs through his wallet, pulling out several twenty-dollar bills and shakily hands them through to the driver. He clears his throat when he sees Liam duck back into the car.

“Cheers,” Liam says to the driver with a toothy smile. Louis feels a blush creep onto his cheeks at the thought of him being the taste on Liam's tongue. Liam turns to Louis, brows raised and waiting.

“Th--thank you very much,” Louis rattles.

“Yeah, yeah, have a good night,” the driver waves, counting the bills as Louis steps out.

Liam slams the door closed behind him as the cab peels away.

“Do you think--” Louis starts.

There’s that mischievous glimmer in Liam's eye again, “oh, he definitely heard you." They share a fit of laughs and he holds out a hand for Louis to take, "come on. I don't think the neighbors know my name yet."


End file.
